


(Lovely Weather for a) Hayride Together With You

by Gampyre



Series: Fictober 2020 [4]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: First Kiss, Flufftober, Getting Together, Halloween, M/M, Watford Eighth Year, autumn vibes, hayrides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26870995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gampyre/pseuds/Gampyre
Summary: Day 5—Hayride!Unexpectedly running into your roommate who hates you while in the queue for a hayride could be really awkward. Or it could be the best night of your existence so far. (Or possibly a little of both.) Baz Pitch is about to find out.Or: A few hay bales play matchmaker to two roommates who are already unknowingly in love.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Fictober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949773
Comments: 10
Kudos: 116





	(Lovely Weather for a) Hayride Together With You

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, friends. I know absolutely nothing about British farms or British Halloween. So if I've Americanized this whole entire thing, please suspend your disbelief and forgive me.
> 
> Flufftober prompts  
> [here](https://subpar-selkie.tumblr.com/post/628080856195547136/flufftober-prompts)

_Baz_

Simon Snow is staring at me.

That's not unusual for him. He's always staring at me when we're at Watford. At meals, in classes, from across our room. (I say staring, but it's really more like glaring.) No, what's unusual is that he's here at all. He never leaves Watford during the school year, except to spend the winter holidays with the Wellbeloves or with Bunce. Yet here he is on a random Saturday night in October, at a random farm about an hour away from Watford, waiting in line for the same hayride as me.

I at least have a reason to be here. I came along with Daphne to help her watch the children while they run amok doing all the Halloween-themed children's activities set up on the farm. Snow is…. by himself?

"Simon!" A familiar voice calls from behind me, and then someone brushes past me in a blur of purple and burnt sage. Of course Bunce is here. Snow doesn't go anywhere without his sidekick. Still, I wouldn’t put it past Snow to have followed me here solely to accuse me of plotting something evil.

The hayride pulls up and the previous crowd gets off, and those in the queue shuffle forward to take their turn. Daphne goes first, and the kids settle in around her. When I climb up into the wagon, there is only one seat left. As luck would have it, that seat is right next to Simon fucking Snow.

Snow glares at me as I make my way over to him and Bunce, and squints at me suspiciously when I sit down on the hay bale beside him. (Hay is _not_ comfortable to sit on, despite appearances. I can feel it poking my arse even through my jeans.)

"What are you doing here?" Snow asks.

I curl my lip at him. "Helping my stepmother with the children, obviously.” I gesture to the other side of the wagon, where Daphne is shifting the baby so that one of the twins can sit on her lap.

He frowns, looking between me and them. "Since when do you have siblings?"

"Well, my oldest sister is six, but her birthday's coming up soon, so that makes it just about seven years."

"You never told me you had siblings," he says.

"You never asked," I say. "What are _you_ doing here?"

“What’s it to you?”

Bunce leans forward and cuts in, saying, "Simon's never been on a hayride. Or been pumpkin picking. So we're catching him up!"

Oh. I feel a little twinge of guilt. Sometimes I forget that while Snow may be the Chosen One, practically worshipped by the world of mages, in possession of unparalleled amounts of raw power, he's missed out on so much of normal life. (Not Normal normal. Just… well. Regular normal.)

"Alright then," I say. "Since it's your first, I won't throw you out of the wagon _this_ time." 

"Oh, fuck off, Baz. Go sit somewhere else."

"I'm afraid you're stuck beside me for now, Snow. We share a room at Watford. I'm sure we can share a hay bale for twenty minutes without killing each other."

Daphne catches my eye over the top of the baby's head, and winks at me. I roll my eyes, and she smiles wider.

Daphne knows about my feelings for Snow. She figured it out the summer after sixth year when she saw the inside cover of one of my school notebooks, where I’d pasted Snow's class photo. She's been cheering me on ever since. (She's a lovely woman.) I didn't have the heart to tell her just how deeply Snow hates me. She thinks it's merely political, but it's not. The animosity between me and Snow has always been personal.

The wagon lurches as the horses start moving, pulling us along a path around the edge of the property. The trail has been lit up along the sides with warm lights and Halloween decorations. 

The wagon hits a particularly large bump, and the sudden movement launches Snow into me. His shoulder hits mine, his elbow slams into my side, and one of his hands falls straight into my lap as he throws his arms out to regain his balance.

I gasp. 

He pulls his hand back like I’d burned it.

"Oh shit, I didn't, oh Merlin. I'm sorry." A few of the parents in the wagon shoot him disapproving looks at his language, one of them covering the ears of her son. "Sorry, so sorry," Snow says again, louder.

"It's fine," I say. Though I most certainly am _not_ fine. Simon Snow just grabbed my crotch. On a hayride full of other people. (This is not at all how I imagined it would go when Snow put his hands down there for the first time.)

"Oh my god, Baz," he says, and then points at my crotch. "Baz, you're—" I look down, just to be sure I haven't developed an inopportune tent in my trousers. (I haven't.)

"Spit it out, Snow," I bark. 

"Baz, you're wearing jeans!"

 _Merlin's beard._ "Yes, and? We're sitting on a pile of horse food. What did you expect me to wear, a three-piece velvet suit?"

"No," he says. "But, but—" 

"Simon, look at this!" Bunce grabs his arm, pointing at something in the opposite direction, and he turns away from me. 

I look away, too, watching the lights bob past us as we move. This is going to be the longest hayride in the history of hayrides.

* * *

By the time the hayride ends, I'm wound as tight as one of Bunce's hairbands. Every little bump and jostle had sent me crashing into Snow, or him into me. My skin feels like it's on fire, and Daphne won't stop giving me knowing looks.

"I'm going to take the kids to Maccies," she says as we climb off the wagon. "I'll come back for you a little later, okay?"

"No, I can come with you now," I start, but she shakes her head.

"He wants to talk to you," she says quietly, flicking her eyes over my shoulder in Snow's direction. "He just told his friend to wait for him by the entrance."

I turn, and she's right. Bunce is walking back toward the car park, but Snow is still standing by the hayride, leaning up against the fence, staring at me again. 

Daphne gives my shoulder an encouraging pat before ushering the kids to the car. I take a deep breath to steady myself before walking over to Snow.

"Hey," I say.

"Hey, Baz," he says. Then nods toward the hayride. "Want to ride with me? Penny said she didn't want to go again, but I want to go one more time before we head back to Watford."

If I were the one asking Simon to go on a hayride with me, he'd accuse me of plotting. As it is, I'm a bit suspicious, but Snow seems sincere enough.

"Alright," I say.

His mouth drops open. He clearly wasn’t expecting me to say yes. Part of me is pleased at having caught him off guard. 

"Seriously? You’re actually gonna go on the hayride with me?" 

"I don't see why not," I say. "Unless you're plotting to kill me on it."

He knits his eyebrows together in indignation, growling a little. Then he pauses, looking very confused for a few beats, before his face relaxes and he laughs.

"That was a joke," he declares. "I don't think I've ever heard you tell a joke before."

"I can be quite funny,” I say. "You must not have been paying attention.”

"That’s not true. I'm always paying attention to you."

I turn away to hide the blush spreading across my cheeks.

"Come on, then, Snow. Let's take another hayride."

* * *

We end up going on _two_ more hayrides together. The first one we spend talking a little bit. Nothing too interesting—mostly about school and my siblings—but since it’s an actual conversation during which neither of us is trying to expose or murder or provoke the other, it’s quite a lot of progress for us. 

During the second hayride, we mostly sit in silence, though it’s a comfortable silence for once. I end up sitting on the floor in the corner of the wagon, and he ends up to my left side and a little bit in front of me. At some point on the ride, when a bump sends him reeling backward, he stays there, a portion of his back pressed to a sliver of my chest.

I consider sliding my arm a few inches to the side… it would be so easy to slip my arm around him. But I don’t. 

When the last ride ends, Daphne and Bunce are standing by the edge of the car park, chatting with each other. I worry a little bit about what they’re saying, if they’re talking about us. (I hope not. Daphne knows far too much about me.)

Snow gets off the wagon first, and holds a hand out to help me down. I don't need his help, of course, but I take his hand anyway. (Any excuse to touch him.) I expect him to let go once we're both on solid ground, but he doesn't. 

He's looking at me the way he does when he's spoiling for a fight. Even in the dim light, his eyes are full of heat. It's intense, and I want to look away, but I can't.

"Simon, I—"

" _Shh,_ " he says. "Just… I want to try something."

"You've tried a lot of new things today already," I say.

"I said _shhhhh_."

"Don't tell me what to do, Snow."

He clamps a hand over my mouth. "Stop talking. Don't be difficult."

I'm a bit overwhelmed by his hand on my face and how close he’s now standing, so I just nod. He nods back. 

"Okay then," he says. "Wait a minute. You called me Simon."

"I did no such thing."

His eyes widen, and he grins at me, all sunshine and smugness. "You _did_! Just now."

"I promise you, I didn't. Now, whatever you're going to do, please get on with it, because I—"

He cuts me off with a kiss. I've barely enough time to register what's happening before he pulls away. I gape at him and feel my hand drift up to touch my lips.

Simon frowns, thinking hard about something, then looks at my lips, where I've still got my hand on them. I let my hand drop, and he catches it.

"Yeah," he says, nodding. "I think—yeah. Baz, can I kiss you again?"

"Simon," I say. "You don't have to ask."

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on Tumblr!  
> [Gampyre on Tumblr](https://gampyre.tumblr.com/)


End file.
